Nightwing's Death
by KatieH42
Summary: Near the end of Battle for the Cowl Dick stops to think for a minute about what being Batman will mean


Jason had let go. He's just fallen until he was out of sight, until Dick couldn't see him any more, until Dick had closed his eyes and stopped seeing him. He was probably dead, but if Dick had learned anything from his years with Bruce it was that assuming someone was dead unless you personally buried the body was not helpful, and sometimes, not even that wasn't enough. Jason had proved that. Without a body, Dick wasn't going to believe it.

"Oh God Tim," he muttered out loud.

He reached for his ear, but the com wasn't picking anything up. Well he had taken a few blows to the head and he would rather it was the tech and not his skull that had cracked.

Not that it felt particularly uncracked at that moment. He staggered sideways and had to grab the ledge just to keep himself upright. The fear toxin was still bubbling in his blood, he could feel it, even if he wasn't seeing triple any more, and his whole body throbbed from the bruises and cuts that were covering him and his heart hurt. That wasn't even from any injury. He needed to find Tim but his first few steps were unsteady and he dropped to his knees. God it hurt when he landed. At this rate he'd never get there in time.

Jason had believed it when he said Tim was dead. Dick had seen it but he wasn't going to accept that, not yet. He tried to stand up again, but the world just pitched him forward and dropped him back onto his hands. "No!" he shouted. Tim could be dying right now, he didn't have time for this.

Bruce wouldn't have wasted time on this.

"Come on," he snapped at himself, pushing off the ground as hard as he could. It worked a little but by the time he was on his feet he felt like he was falling backwards. He had to sit down or he was going to fall down, possibly off a building. That was wasn't going to be any more helpful.

He had an extra com, in his glove.

Never leave home without a spare, Bruce had said that to him at least a dozen times, although he rarely followed his own advice.

"Damn it," he snarled when he realized one of his fingers was broken. It made it way more difficult to get the com out of the pocket in his sleeve. He bit the end of his middle finger and used his teeth to drag it off so he could use the unbroken hand to grab it and slip it into his ear.

"Robin? Robin?" he half shouted and half exhaled. "Tim?"

"Nightwing?" came another voice, not Tim's. Barbara's. She sounded scared but Dick could hear relief in her voice too. "Nightwing are you all right?"

"Oracle, we need to find Tim, right now," he ordered. "Jason said that he was dead but..."

"Dick it's fine," Barbara interrupted. "He's alive. Squire and Damian got him."

"Is he okay?"

"He's in rough shape," Barbara said. Her voice was reassuring, calm, steady. He wondered if she was as in control as she sounded. "They'll be back at the manor in a few minutes. Alfred's waiting for them. He's going to be okay."

The pain in his chest it was fading a little. Unfortunately that just meant the rest of him was starting to hurt more. Still, it was an improvement. He stood up, or dragged himself up, either way. He found his feet under him.

"Nightwing?" Oracle said urgently. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah." Tim was alive, he hadn't gotten anyone killed that night. His brain was starting again, Bruce would have been furious that he'd ever let it stop, and he did the rundown of his injuries. A few hits to the head, but nothing too serious, no broken bones, other than a few fingers, a lot of bruising though. He would live. Alfred might have a something to say about that but it would have to wait.

"You need pick up?" she asked. "The Birds could be there in ten minutes."

"No I'm okay, Babs, really," he said. "I'll be home in a minute."

"Jason?" she asked very, very quietly, like she was afraid of the answer. Dick was on his feet again, he was looking down over the edge and wondering where Jason was. He'd always kind of hated Jason for being Robin. Was that the reason he didn't jump over the side to see if he could find a body?

"Can we talk about him later?" he asked. He sounded pathetic. He knew he did. But Barbara would understand. If anyone would understand it would be Barbara.

"Sure," she said. "So we'll see you back at the manor?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "I'll be there soon. Don't let Tim die okay? Nightwing out."

So, he'd only lost one Robin that night. Well, unless he counted himself, in which case he'd lost two. That was comforting. Sort of.

He'd never say "Nightwing out" ever again would he? He didn't just loose a Robin. Jason had dragged Nightwing over the side of that building and Dick didn't need a body to know that Nightwing had died before he hit the pavement.


End file.
